


What is Real and What is Fiction

by danvssomethingorother



Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies)
Genre: Canon Death, Death, Depression, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-05
Updated: 2017-10-05
Packaged: 2019-01-09 13:02:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12277002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/danvssomethingorother/pseuds/danvssomethingorother
Summary: Peter’s thoughts and fears coming to the realization he’s clinging to his adopted father’s corpse in the middle of space with no idea if anyone will come for him or not.





	What is Real and What is Fiction

Peter had felt Yondu take his last breath a while ago but he couldn’t let go.

A part of this was because his fingers were beginning to stick to the ice closing around Yondu but the only reason it had got to this point to begin with was because Peter couldn’t let go. He had let his mother down by refusing her last request of compassion from him, so he didn’t want to fail Yondu’s final show of compassion for him.

If he let go, he would just drift away and he would never see him again. He felt the tears bubbling again, curling tighter around his father.

He laughed humorlessly at the thought, his choked lifeless chuckle filling the void around him, echoing in the stasis suit keeping him alive. Yondu, the biggest bastard in his life for so many years, was his daddy and he loved him. Maybe not in the traditional sense but he protected him, he made him strong.

“Hey, Yondu, you only told me this before you died because you didn’t want me calling you Yondad, huh?”

“Well the jokes on you cause I am gonna call ya that now. Yer my Yondad…and yer dead. Yondead.”

He let out a deep breath pressing his cheek to Yondu’s chest, listening. He heard nothing like he knew he wouldn’t but he just pretended for a minute. Closed his eyes and pretended it was all fine and always had been.

He was eight, Yondu didn’t sneer his way bringing him on board but he smiled at him. It was large and kind and gentle, everything Yondu had not been in life. He took him in his arms and let Peter press himself to him just like this and let him cry. 

Keeping his eyes closed he took one of Yondu’s stiff hands and placed it against the back of his head and let himself just imagine Yondu actually doing that to him as a child; soothing his fears and telling him it was ok, instead of threatening to eat him every time he showed his true emotions.

Yondu sitting him down and telling him how awful his sperm donor was and how hard he was trying to keep him safe.

He pressed himself closer to the corpse imaging Yondu being like one his old role models he saw on TV and telling him he would kill Ego before he let him touch him.

He kept his eyes firmly closed and imagined Yondu not being dead, letting him sit on his lap and pilot his ship. Nothing more than a fun father / son activity. Him laughing as Peter pulled too hard down on the thruster and helping him keep the ship steady, his large blue hands over his tiny ones. Radio up full blast and them enjoying the ride. Them having fun, nothing like the real story of Yondu screaming at Peter to keep this damn ship steady if he didn’t want to be arrested today. Smacking him hard on the back of the head when he jumped too early and nearly crashed them into the Nova Corpse waiting on the other side. Keep this damn thing steady boy and out run them while I shoot as many as I can or I’ll eat ya he had screamed at him. Peter pretended he instead told him how proud of him he was and how much he loved him.

He laughed until the tears started again thinking of Yondu playing catch with him. Peter running and scrambling to catch every ball he tossed over his head. The ball hitting more crew members then Peter catching it, resulting in nothing more than light teasing and wagged fingers Peter’s way rather than full on punishment.

He could just live in these fantasies, he realized. Just live there and not worry about the fact he was so far out, no one would look for him. His team probably already assumed him dead and already miles away.

He kept his eyes shut, putting Yondu’s hand back on the back of his head as it fell. Just let him have this, let him have this temporary happiness. Let him imagine he and Yondu were anything resembling a happy loving family. Let him pretend Yondu’s baggage hadn’t made him too guarded to ever truly let him in and he didn’t spend so many years alone surrounded by people who were indifferent to him and he pushed their buttons and endured those ‘training lessons’ and accepted being shoved into any tight space he would fit just so they acknowledged his existence. So he wouldn’t be alone…

He couldn’t handle being alone, let him be with someone who hated him and would fight him but don’t leave him alone with only his thoughts.

“Please say something…” he begged Yondu putting his hand on his face, “Please say anything. Tell me I’m annoying and not accepting reality but don’t let me die alone here…”

“Don’t let me die alone…” he knew it would be inevitable. He was going to die here too, Yondu’s sacrifice meant nothing. Even if his suit never ran out of air, he would die. Whether it be from dehydration or starvation or maybe sooner if they drifted into an asteroid field but he was going to die.

He could accept that, really, he could but dying alone, the only noise being his choked sobs, he couldn’t handle that.

He pressed himself against his captain, the man he never really knew and remembered him for what he was.

He had always been so closed off when it came to who he was, he just knew how he did business. Everything was business. As a child, he was thrown from crew member to crew member to baby sit while business was done, only seeing Yondu from a far.

He made a lot of noise just to get the man’s attention and it was always met with threats of being eaten to shut him up.

Given tasks just to get some peace and quiet away from ‘that damn kid’. He always kinda felt he deserved this treatment after denying his mother one last show of love and affection.

He remembered though, Yondu had never let anyone hurt him when he was little. That’s why he always wanted to reach out and know the captain, he almost idolized him when he was small. If anyone so much as roughly grabbed him, they would be punished. He had weekly inspections by the doctor, always to his annoyance but if any bruises were reported, who ever had been bothering him would just disappear.

One time he had gathered the courage to ask Yondu about it but he only shrugged and said he wanted him healthy when he ate him, rough meat was disgusting.

When he hit puberty, he became less sheltered and every time Peter would get into a squabble with the crew, Yondu himself would beat him if he lost. Yet, he never seriously hurt him, always demanding he pay attention to how he was doing it. Peter strived to beat him one day.

He sighed lamenting he would never know how this man worked, truly was inside, how he became this way.

He clung to him tighter and closed his eyes, he would see him again soon, he would ask him then.

He was beginning to reason he wasn’t really dying alone when his friends found them. Yondu was here, he could cling to him and pretend he wasn’t dead when his time came.

Though he would never say it out loud, he almost regretted it when Gamora yanked him on board, Kraglin and Drax having to help her peal Yondu’s frozen corpse off him.

Death was beginning to feel like an old friend he was almost looking forward to seeing again, taking him instead of taking away people he loved and would one day leave him alone. 

He couldn’t look at his friends, he only stared at Yondu, ignoring all their questions. Yondu’s death felt like it was following a pattern. Was he cursed to watch everyone around him die one by one until he was alone? 

He could go on and pretend this wasn’t true all he wanted. Just like he would go on to pretend Yondu was a better father then he was but he was too afraid to face reality. So he didn’t. He just let those fears buzz behind a wall of music he turned louder every night.

He put on his brightest smile and pretended things were fine but they weren’t. Just let me have this, he begged himself every night building the wall of music around his thoughts, let me pretend.


End file.
